


Safe Haven For as Long as You Want It

by Birdpeople (DeusExMachina)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Also it's not really a different universe but??, Being a werewolf means you turn into an actual wolf, Canon deviant, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mentions of past abuse, Scott cuts Isaac's hair and it's cute okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-04
Updated: 2014-09-11
Packaged: 2018-02-11 17:09:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2076180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeusExMachina/pseuds/Birdpeople
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There it was again, a faint rattling from the back door, accompanied by what sounded like whining. Animal whining. </p><p>Scott McCall, part-time veterinary trainee extraordinaire, was needed. He had no reason to suspect that Scott McCall, under-qualified pack-leader of one was needed, too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It was raining the first time Scott met Isaac.

 

Of course, Scott didn’t know Isaac’s name at that point, didn’t even know he had one.

 

He was in the living room, reading an article that Derek had said might interest him, which was Derek code for ‘Next time I see you I expect you to have read this’, when he heard a weak battering noise from the back door.

 

He laid down the article, standing warily. Were it not for his werewolf hearing, the sound would have been inaudible to him. Had he imagined it? But no, there it was again, a faint rattling from the back door, accompanied by what sounded like whining. _Animal_ whining.

 

Scott McCall, part-time veterinary trainee extraordinaire, was needed. He had no reason to suspect that Scott McCall, under-qualified pack-leader of one was needed, too.

 

He opened the door, and when he saw the shivering, shallowly-breathing, long-legged mess parked on the back steps, he thanked his lucky stars that his mother had a shift that night.

 

Making soothing noises, he gathering the trembling, soaking dog into his arms, bearing the awkward armful upstairs to the bathtub, which he immediately set to a warm trickle and began examining his terrified new houseguest.

 

The longer he looked, the more distressed he became. The dog, who he now knew to be male, was not a dog at all, but a wolf. A very skinny, very underweight wolf, with a face like a skull, lips pulled back in a helpless snarl and eyes rolling fearfully and ribs that stuck out like knives through his matted coat.

 

 _Blood_ -matted coat.

 

Almost entirely his own blood, as Scott quickly discovered, gently sponging clean the lacerations that criss-crossed the wolf’s shoulders and side.

 

“What happened to you, boy?” Scott murmured softly. The wolf flinched, glancing up at Scott with clear, golden eyes, before dropping his head with a quiet whine.

 

Scott continued to bathe him, and as he did so, his dislike for this wolf’s attacker deepened. It did not occur to Scott that the wounds might be natural. As he had been told often and often, there were no wild wolves in California.

 

Once Scott had cleaned the wolf and gently toweled him off, he found him an old dog bed, further lined it with a worn blanket, and set it up in his own room. He knew he’d have to square it with his mother when she came home, but there was nothing he could do about that. Instead, he dug up an old, half-full bag of dry dog food from when he had pet-sat for a friend months ago and poured some into a plastic bowl.

 

When he set in front of the wolf, he gave Scott a look of such gratitude that Scott nearly took a step back, and then bent his head to crunch at the brown pellets. They were gone in under a minute, but even that seemed to tire out the wolf. He gave another soft whine, laying his head on his paws as if he really were a housebroken pet.

 

He flinched and whimpered when Scott put out a hand to pet his uninjured side, but relaxed when all Scott did was run his fingers through his coat, which was drying a light, curly brown.

 

_Who did this to you, boy?_

There had been something in those golden eyes, in that intelligent look of gratitude. Scott couldn’t put his finger on it.

 

It was only as Scott lay in bed, no longer able to concentrate on Derek’s article, that it occurred to him. He rolled over, listening to the wolf’s heartbeat, and inhaled carefully.

 

And there it was. Under the smell of bathwater and fear and wolf. The smell of a human.

 

Of a werewolf.

 

_Who did this to you?_

\---

 

Scott woke up the next morning to the stench of urine. During the night, the wolf had wet himself. As Scott swung his legs out of bed, he noticed the wolf’s golden eyes locked on his as he hunched further down into the damp dog bed, trembling, tail between his legs, waiting for his punishment.

 

“Hey, it’s okay,” Scott said gently. “I know it’s not your fault. We’ll just have to give you another bath before school. C’mon, it’s okay.” He held out a hand to the wolf, kneeling on the floor, but he just shrank away from Scott, cowering.

 

Scott sighed. “Listen,” he said quietly. “I know your secret. I know what you are. You’re like me. That’s why you came and found me, right? Because I’m an alpha? I can take care of you. You don’t need to be afraid of me, okay?”

 

The wolf didn’t move, didn’t stop shaking. Scott sighed. “I really can’t be late for school one more time,” he confessed, “So I can’t stay with you. I’ll leave a note for my mom. I don’t know if you’d let her give you a bath and throw that blanket in the wash, but I promise she won’t hurt you and you’d be more comfortable. Just consider it, okay? I know you can understand me.”

 

Scott got dressed, every minute or so glancing over at the wolf. Just before he left, he set out another bowl of food for him, which the wolf ate just as ravenously as the one last night. When Scott reached out carefully, the wolf even let Scott stroke him once or twice before squirming away.

 

Scott sighed, wrote a note for his mother.

 

‘There’s a dog in my room. He’s a stray I found last night. He needs a bath and the blanket in the dog bed needs a wash. If he won’t let you near him, I’ll bathe him when I get home. He’s very safe, but I think his last owner abused him. I fed him before I left already, so wait a little bit before feeding him again. We’ll talk when I get home. Love, Scott.’

 

With a last look at those distrustful golden eyes, Scott left for school.

 

\---

 

“Scott,” said teenager winced at his mother’s tone.

 

“Yeah, mom?”

 

“That poor dog in your room.”

 

“Did he let you give him a bath?”

 

“With a little coaxing, yes. Where on earth did you find him?”

 

Scott tried not to screw up his face. He was a terrible liar. “He was by the road. I saw him on the way home from the animal hospital. I would have taken him there, but Deaton had the key.”

 

“And now I suppose you’re getting him used to being around people again.” Scott nodded guiltily. “Well I can’t say I blame you. He’s skin and bone.”

 

“Please say I can take care of him.”

 

Scott’s mother shook her head. “Of course you can. But it’s on you to nurse him back to health. You’re the expert. You’ll need to walk him. And feed him. And clean up after him. And make sure he’s had his shots.”

 

Scott grinned. “You’re my favorite mom in the world.”

 

Melissa smiled fondly. “And you’re the worst teenager ever for saying so, I imagine.”

 

Scott kissed her on the cheek before bounding upstairs, remembering to go quietly when entering his room. The wolf was lounging on a blanket in the dog bed again, looking cleaner and slightly less apprehensive than he had that morning. All the same, his eyes followed Scott warily as he crossed to where the wolf lay. Scott got down on his knees, offering his hand to the wolf to sniff before stroking him.

 

“So mom said I can look after you,” Scott said to the wolf, voice low and joyful. “She thinks you’re a dog. If you ever decide to turn back, things might get awkward. She doesn’t know I’m a werewolf, either. Guess both of us could come out at the same time.”

 

Scott paused. The wolf opened his mouth, eyes nearly shut. He looked like he was laughing at Scott. “Shut up, I didn’t mean it like that,” Scott said.

 

The wolf put his head down on his front paws with a thump, sighing. Scott took the opportunity to look closer at the lacerations across the wolf’s side and shoulders. The wolf promptly tensed up until it became apparent that Scott was just sifting his fingers through the curly fur there.

 

“God, someone did a number on you, didn’t they?” Scott said softly. He felt the wolf start trembling again. “Oh no, don’t, I’m sorry,” Scott said, aghast. “Does it hurt?”

 

The wolf didn’t answer, but kept shaking. Scott stilled his hand against the wolf’s side, concentrating, until his slowly drew out the wolf’s pain until his own arm was shaking.

 

The wolf’s head came up fast and he gave a loud bark. He was looking at Scott in the eye again, startled. Scott petted him wearily. “You were in a lot of pain, boy. I’m just trying to help out. It’s the least I can do.”

 

\---

 

Over the days that followed, the wolf became more and more at ease. His ribs no longer showed as clearly. His coat has glossier, less matted. Two weeks later, Scott came home to find the wolf prowling the house, investigating every faint creak and interesting scent. Scott’s mother grew to love their new pet, as Scott hoped she would, and it seemed the wolf adored Melissa, too.

 

Which made Scott think the wolf’s abuser had been a man.

 

Which made Scott’s blood boil.

 

He continued to talk to the wolf, encouraging him to jump up on Scott’s bed and sleep there when it became apparent that the bed-wetting had been a one-time thing.

 

Then, nearly three weeks after the wolf had first come to find Scott, something changed. Something gave.

 

Scott came home from school, heading straight for his room to drop off his bag, only to be arrested in the doorway by a new sight.

 

A boy sat in his bed. A boy his age, with wavy blond hair that was more than a little too long and scared blue eyes. He was naked except for where he had dragged Scott’s blanket over himself up to the waist.

 

They stared at each other. If it wasn’t for the look of abject terror, Scott thought, the boy would be quite good-looking. Then the other took a breath.

 

“I’m Isaac.”

 

Scott didn’t know what to say. Pleased to meet you? Luckily, the other kid took matters into his own hands, dwindling quickly into the curly-haired wolf Scott knew and loved and bounding off and bed to squeeze past Scott.

 

 _I wonder if he’d going to leave_. For some reason the thought was unbearable.

 

\---

 

As it happened, Isaac didn’t leave. Melissa was surprised when Scott started referring to the wolf by his name, knowing that Scott had been adamant for weeks that they not name him.

 

Something had definitely shifted, now. Isaac was more open about displaying affection, although somehow even warier around Scott, as though he thought Scott would reject him now that he had been reminded of what Isaac really was- not a pet at all. He would cautiously wag his tail when Melissa fussed over him, would curl closer to Scott when Scott could convince him to sleep on his bed instead of on the floor.

 

It was nearly a week until Scott saw Isaac as a human again.

 

He came home from school, opening the door and automatically calling for Isaac, as he had become accustomed to. When no ticker-tack of nails on wood flooring answered him, he went looking.

 

He found Isaac standing in the bathroom upstairs, wearing what were clearly Scott’s clothes and studying himself in the mirror over the sink. It struck Scott that Isaac was actually taller than him.

 

When Isaac noticed Scott, he hunched his shoulders.

 

“I was thinking of cutting my hair.”

 

Isaac’s voice was nice. It was like his bark, which was a weird thing to think, but it was true. It was gravelly, though, a little unused of late, and Scott remembered the scars on Isaac’s back. Were they there even now?

 

“Do you want me to cut it for you?” Scott asked. _Do you trust me to cut it for you?_

 

Isaac nodded. No ‘yes, please’ but not a ‘no’ either.

 

Isaac sat obediently on the edge of the bathtub- the same one, as it happened, where Scott had bathed him that first night.

 

Scott fetched a pair of scissors and came back to find Isaac examining his own fingers.

 

“It’s weird, having hands,” Isaac said conversationally.

 

“You get used to it,” Scott said, without thinking.

 

Isaac twisted around, eyes squinted nearly shut and mouth open. It was the same almost-laughing face he made as a wolf.

 

“So what’s your story,” Isaac asked, facing forward again. Scott got out a comb.

 

“What story?”

 

“The story of how you became an alpha.”

 

“It’s a long story.”

 

There was a distinctly awkward pause. “You don’t want to talk about it,” Isaac said, voice subdued. “I get it. It must feel like you just met me.”

 

“How did you find me?” Scott asked. It had been bothering him on and off, but with no way to get any answers, he had held it in.

 

Isaac shrugged as Scott combed his hair. “Your scent’s all over town. That other alpha, too, but his led out into the woods to some old ruin. It was raining that night. I picked the alpha with a roof over his head.”

 

“Makes sense,” Scott said.

 

“Who was that friend of yours, the one you had over the other day?”

 

“Stiles?” Scott asked, smiling. “He’s my best friend. He was actually there the night I was bitten.”

 

“He seems… fun.”

 

“You mean exhausting?”

 

“Can’t blame your old dog for taking a nap in the middle of play-time.”

 

Scott hummed in response. Stiles had exclaimed over Isaac, who had in turn warmed to him in an instant, romping all over the house and backyard with him. But Stiles could out-energy anyone, and Isaac had ended up jumping up on Scott’s bed and falling asleep.

 

Scott was silent for a while, but when he spoke, Isaac tried to do the same.

 

“You-”

 

“Are-”

 

They both stopped. “Sorry,” Isaac said, “What were you saying?”

 

“I was just going to ask if you wanted me to introduce you to some of the others like us around here.”

 

“Oh, um.” Isaac shifted uncomfortably. Scott put a hand on his shoulder to steady him, and Isaac flinched.

 

“No pressure,” Scott reminded him softly.

 

Isaac sighed unhappily. “I don’t know.”

 

“It’s okay not to know.”

 

Isaac looked back at him gratefully. “Thank you.”

 

There was another lull. “What were you going to ask before?” Scott prompted.

 

“Is Stiles a werewolf?”

 

Scott laughed. “He wishes.”

 

“So he knows about you.”

 

“He was there when it happened.” Scott absent-mindedly ran his fingers through Isaac’s slightly shorter hair. It was odd, as a wolf, Isaac’s fur was brown and coarse, but as a human, his hair was fair and soft.

 

“So are he and you. You know.” Isaac fidgeted.

 

“What?”

 

“ _Together_?”

 

“What?” Scott let out a startled laugh, loud in the tiled bathroom. “God, no.”

 

“So you’re not- I mean you made a joke a while ago so I thought maybe-”

 

“Isaac, are you asking if I’m gay?”

 

“You don’t have to tell- I mean, if you are- I mean of course you’re not-” Isaac looked miserable for some reason. He had started shaking again, something he hadn’t done in a while, hunching his shoulders as if to present a smaller target. That hurt to think about, and Scott distracted himself by running his fingers through Isaac’s hair again.

 

“I don’t know, man,” Scott sighed. “I mean, girls are so gorgeous and amazing, but there are definitely some guys who just make me go damn, guys are gorgeous, too. Y’know?”

 

Isaac froze. “You’re serious?” He asked, voice strangled.

 

“Yeah, of course.” Scott set the scissors down on the edge of the sink. “Your hair’s done, by the way, if you wanna see.”

 

Isaac stood, admiring himself critically in the mirror. Scott was once again reminded of how tall Isaac was. His heart squeezed erratically. Who had taught Isaac that he would be punished for asking questions?

 

Isaac advised him not to quit his day job. Scott stuck his tongue at Isaac.

 

\---

 

It happened very occasionally that Scott would wake up to find Isaac curled back-to-back with him in human form. Always, Isaac was very obviously naked. Scott would study the scars across his shoulders and ribs, which stuck out worryingly even like this, even now.

 

There were old scars there, layered under the newer ones, and always Scott would be tempted to reach out and touch them, trace them, but always he held himself back. There was old pain there, something he could never help Isaac with no matter how much he wanted to.

 

There were nights when Isaac’s dreams were chaotic, violent. He would whimper and sweat, plead with his night terrors, shift back into a wolf without waking up, and Scott would lie there, helpless, not sure if waking him would help or not. He was always tired at school the next day.

 

Until one time he reached out, stroking the curly fur of Isaac’s back as the wolf whined in his sleep, twitching and shaking, and drew Isaac’s pain into him. Isaac’s tremors slowly died out. He relaxed, sighing in his sleep, slipped back into his human form and Scott covered him with the blanket.

 

\---

 

It was a while before Isaac let Scott introduce him to Derek. In fact, the most he would allow was for Scott to tell Derek over the phone of Isaac’s existence. A face-to-face meeting was too much.

 

Not like Derek didn’t know. He had been smelling Isaac on Scott for months. He growled at Scott for not owning up sooner.

 

Scott forgot to tell Isaac about Derek’s famous disregard for doors. So when Scott came home one day, it was to find Isaac cowering as far as possible from Scott’s bedroom window, whimpering with his tail between his legs, and Derek sitting on the windowsill, with an odd expression on his face.

 

Scott dropped his bag in the doorway, gathering Isaac’s leggy frame into his arms and murmuring to him, shooting a reproachful look at Derek.

 

Derek stood inside Scott’s room uneasily. “He’s just a pup,” he growled.

 

Scott felt Isaac changing, seething in his arms, suddenly ungainly and heavy. “I am _not_!” Isaac said indignantly.

 

“Yes you are,” Derek snapped. “I should know. I’m the one who offered you the bite, remember?”

 

“Wait,” said Scott, still sitting on the floor, although Isaac was already standing. “How long ago was that?”

 

“Few months?” Derek postulated, shrugging. “Not long. Does it matter?”

 

Scott stared up at Isaac’s bare back as the boy crossed to Scott’s dresser, picking out something to wear. _Some of those scars are a lot older than that._

 

“Anyway, I can take him off your hands if you want,” Derek continued. “I thought he had died when I couldn’t find him.”

 

Scott saw Isaac flinch. Take a deep breath. He was only half-clothed, a shirt hanging from his hands, the scars across his back and ribs very obvious as he stood with his back to the alphas. “I wasn’t dead,” he said, his voice strangled-sounding. “I was locked up.”

 

Scott’s heart pounded. Derek could certainly hear it. For all he knew, Isaac could, too. “You were in jail?” Scott asked, his voice sounding strange.

 

Isaac turned around, eyes haunted, voice eerily calm. “No, I was just locked up. By my father. In an old freezer. In the basement.” He pulled on the shirt in his hands in the silence these facts brought.

 

“Where is your father now?” Derek asked. He looked ugly. Scott knew Isaac’s father would get what was coming to him.

 

“Dead.” That was a surprise.

 

“You did it?” Derek asked.

 

“I did. He locked me up again right after you turned me, but that was the last time. When he let me out, I did it.”

 

 _The last time. Why did he ever lock you up before? What did he do to you?_ Scott realized that Derek and Isaac were looking at him, waiting for him to say something. Derek expectantly, Isaac apprehensively.

 

 _God, he’s afraid I’ll hate him because he killed his abusive father_.

 

Scott took a shuddery breath. _Too much, it’s too much. But it’s not about me right now._ He stood. Held out a hand to Isaac. Isaac look surprised, but came over to Scott. He enfolded Isaac in a hug, felt Isaac stiffen in shock before gradually slumping, a sob wracking his body. Derek made an uncomfortable noise.

 

“Guess you’re keeping him, then.”

 

“No,” Scott said, rubbing Isaac’s back soothingly, the same way he had stroked him on that first night. “No one will ever keep him again. But he can stay here for as long as he wants.”

 

Derek nodded. Isaac breathed shakily against Scott’s cheek. Scott held him.


	2. Chapter 2

“Hey, Isaac?”

 

“Mm?”

 

“What do you know about Pre-Calculus?”

 

Isaac wandered over to where Scott was hunched in agony over the desk in his room. “I don’t remember. I took that last year.”

 

Scott sat back in his chair with a sigh. Isaac surveyed him critically. “Why don’t you get a tutor?”

 

Scott’s face turned a very _interesting_ shade of pink. “I kind of. Um. Slept with my last tutor.”

 

Isaac blinked rapidly a few times before throwing himself down on the bed. “God, you’re like a walking porno. How do you live with yourself?”

 

“It’s not funny!”

 

Isaac propped himself up on one elbow, grinning. “Well?”

 

“Well what?”

 

“Oh come on, there’s a story there. Spill.”

 

Scott sighed. “Well, she was the new girl at school.”

 

“Stop.” Isaac covered his face. “I need a moment to process how utterly cliché your life is.”

 

Scott laughed and threw a pencil at him. “I had just been bitten. I had no idea I was a werewolf. There was weird shit happening; I was hearing things I shouldn’t have been able to.” Isaac was nodding. “I lent her a pen. I asked her to tutor me. We went out for a while. We had sex. The werewolf thing on top of her mom dying and her dad turning out to be a hunter was a little much for her. We’re still friends.”

 

Isaac was staring at him. At first Scott thought he was going to comment on the nonchalant tone Scott had mastered for the recounting of this story. Instead, Isaac’s voice came out as a whisper. “There are _hunters_ here?”

 

“Oh. Oh man, Isaac,” Scott crossed the room in two strides and knelt by the bed. Isaac gripped his arms rather harder than necessary. He looked white as a sheet. “It’s okay. We have an understanding. They don’t hunt the werewolves who live here, and we do our best to keep the people here safe from wolves from out of town.”

 

Isaac exhaled noisily, eyes closed, looking tense and unhappy. He admitted softly, “I’m going crazy staying indoors all the time.”

 

Scott considered that as he gently prized Isaac’s hands off of him. Tentatively, he said, “Maybe you should go back to school.”

 

Isaac snorted. “Yeah, me and what legal guardian?”

 

“Derek can pose as your guardian,” Scott said promptly. The idea was rapidly unfolding in his mind, taking form. “I’ll tell my mom that I’m dropping wolf-you off at the clinic every morning on my way to school so she won’t wonder why you’re not at home.”

 

Isaac cast a dubious look at the calendar on Scott’s wall. “The school year’s more than half over.”

 

“Well… I guess you could repeat part of your last grade or something?”

 

Isaac definitely looked less than thrilled at that. “I had really kinda hoped to be over and done with high school by the end of this year.”

 

“It’s only a little while longer,” Scott said cajolingly. “And then we can do senior year together.”

 

Isaac snorted derisively. “I don’t know this Derek guy very well, but he doesn’t seem like he’ll be happy about this.”

 

“He can deal,” Scott said, and was surprised at how cold he sounded. “He gave you the bite. He may say it’s a gift, but it impossible to maintain whatever life you had before once you’ve got it.”

 

“And thank god for that,” Isaac muttered.

 

Scott was silent for a good minute. Then, “I’ll talk to Derek. He won’t say no.”

 

\---

 

Scott wasn’t even fully awake. He was resting his hand lazily on the dip of Isaac’s waist, studying the scars on his back and wondering why they hadn’t healed over.

 

Finally, Isaac shifted a little and whispered, “Scott? What are you doing?”

 

Scott whipped his hand back, face burning. “Nothing,” he choked, “I mean- your breathing sounded weird so I was just checking…” He trailed off.

 

Isaac rolled over to face him. Scott tried not to blatantly check him out. Isaac still preferred to sleep in the nude.

 

“My breathing probably sounded weird because I was awake.”

 

“Oh.” Isaac had a meaningful look on his face. “ _Oh_ , oh my god, I’m so sorry.”

 

“It’s… fine.” That guilty look was starting to creep back into Isaac’s face, the one Scott dreaded seeing. He took an unsteady breath. “Scott. If this is too weird, I can always go back to being your loveable pet. Or I could sleep at Derek’s new place.”

 

“No.” The word was out before Scott could form an argument to back it up. “I told you: you can stay here for as long as you want.”

 

Isaac looked pained. “I’m not going to hold you to that if I’m making you uncomfortable. And I’m not a dog. I don’t have any right to sleep in your bed.”

 

Scott put out a hand, brushing Isaac’s hair back from his face. The gesture was strangely intimate at such close quarters, but Scott had done it before when he had cut Isaac’s hair and it seemed called-for now.

 

“You’re my friend. I like having you nearby.”

 

Isaac’s expression was strange. Searching. Maybe even pleading. Finally, he turned over, his back to Scott and once again an arms-length away, and resettled the blankets over himself. Just as Scott was about to drop off to sleep, he heard a whisper.

 

“ _Thank you._ ”

 

\---

 

It was Isaac’s first day back. He had missed the first couple of classes, sitting in the admissions office with Derek and then going to guidance to get a schedule sorted out. He finally showed up the period before lunch, in Scott’s Chemistry class.

 

Scott resisted the urge to crane around and look at Isaac. Well, for the most part. He only looked twice. Really.

 

Both times he was disappointed to see Isaac slumped in his seat, staring at the ceiling with his hands laced behind his head.

 

When the bell rang for lunch, Scott got up, trailed by a curious Stiles, to whom Scott’s divided attention had not gone unnoticed. They worked their way back to Isaac’s desk, the occupant of which was still studying the ceiling with a bored expression on his face.

 

Scott sat in the seat in front of Isaac and, lowering his voice so that Stiles had to lean forward to hear over the hubbub, said, “I know this isn’t your favorite place in the world, but it would go a lot easier if you paid attention in your classes.”

 

“Wait,” Stiles said, “You know this guy?”

 

Isaac didn’t say anything, didn’t even remove his gaze from the off-white, public-school-standard ceiling tiles. So Scott was forced to explain in an undertone in the nearly-empty classroom.

 

“Stiles, this is Isaac.”

 

“Isaac? Am I supposed to know him? Because you know I’m not too great with faces.”

 

“You’ve seen him at my house a few times in the last couple of months.” Scott said quietly.

 

“Isaac.” Stile looked bemused. “Isaac your _dog_?”

 

“That’s me,” Isaac said, speaking for the first time.

 

Stiles looked extremely put-out. “I gave you belly rubs. Is that weird?”

 

Isaac squinted his eyes up and opened his mouth in silent laughter.

 

“So you’re a- you know. Like Scott?”

 

“Yep.” Isaac stood up, gathering up his schedule and his unopened notebook. “And for the record, I _was_ paying attention in class. I can repeat back to you everything the teacher said, including the two corny jokes he told and the way he paused when he read my name during attendance.”

 

Scott didn’t say anything. Stiles slapped Isaac’s shoulder in a familiar way that made Isaac flinch. “So, are you gonna try out for lacrosse? I’d say being a werewolf gives you an edge, huh, Scott?”

 

\---

 

Scott sat on his bed, absentmindedly stroking Isaac’s fur as he read his assigned English reading. Isaac had declined to do more than skim his, claiming that he remembered it from last year. Well, better than he remembered Pre-Calc, at least.

 

After a while, Scott voiced aloud something he had been wondering for a while. “Why do you spend so much more time as a wolf than a human?” Under his fingers, Isaac heaved the kind of sigh that weary dogs are very good at.

 

With a languorous effort, Isaac turned himself back. Scott pointedly looked away until Isaac was sitting up with a pillow over his unmentionables. Scott made a mental note to throw that pillowcase in the wash later.

 

Isaac chewed his lip, considering. Finally, he shrugged. “It’s just easier to be a wolf. Less complicated.”

 

“How do you mean?”

 

“It’s harder to over-think. You just _do_ things. And you don’t feel as wide a range of emotions, and the ones you do feel aren’t as clear as when you’re human, y’know?”

 

Scott shook his head. “No, I don’t know. I’ve only ever seen one person turn into a true wolf, and she was dead by the time I ever saw her.”

 

“What?” Isaac’s eyes widened. “But you’re an alpha. I thought you would have figured it out. It’s not that hard.”

 

“Guess I’m just dumb.”

 

Isaac patted Scott’s knee patronizingly. “Want me to teach you?”

 

“I don’t know,” Scott said uneasily. “What if I can’t turn back?”

 

“You spend all of your time as a human. Your body remembers what that feels like. And I’ll coach you through it. It’s easy.”

 

“Well… okay.” Isaac’s face creased up in a smile. “Do I have to take my clothes off?”

 

Isaac rolled his eyes. “ _Yes_ , Scott. Unless you want to fight your way out of them later.”

 

With some trepidation, Scott undressed, eyes downcast. “Are you sure this isn’t just a plot to see me naked?” he joked. When Isaac didn’t answer, Scott glanced up. Isaac was eying him with a strange look on his face. Scott couldn’t place it. He cleared his throat. Isaac’s eyes snapped up. He looked embarrassed. Scott hauled the other pillow over his lap.

 

“Well, talk me through it.”

 

Isaac considered him for a second, then nodded. “Close your eyes.”

 

Scott obediently did so.

 

“Now, focus on the shape of you body. Got it?” Scott nodded. “Good. Now think about the shape of a wolf’s body. Think of the differences. How your fingers would be arranged, your shoulders, how your face would feel with a muzzle instead of a mouth, the way your joints would bend. Got it?”

 

“Yeah.” Scott was concentrating hard, felt himself shifting where he sat with phantom sensation.

 

“Now. Shit, I don’t know how to say this. Just… pull the shape of your human self inside of your wolf one. Bundle it up and push your wolf senses outward. Superimpose the shape of your wolf body over your human one.”

 

“What?” Scott made to open his eyes, but felt Isaac put his hands on either side of Scott’s face, thumbs pressing his eyelids shut.

 

“Fine, I’ll think of some other way,” Isaac muttered. He was quiet for a minute. “Okay, how about this. Focus on your senses. Smell and hearing especially. Feel how your heart is beating. Then make them stronger. Make yourself stronger. Imagine you’re in danger and your heart is racing and your senses are totally overwhelmed.”

 

Isaac had let Scott go, but he kept his eyes tight shut. He was breathing faster, heart pounding. He was being chased and his eyes were closed but he could navigate by smell if only his nose weren’t full of cloying, overwhelming, overlapping scents. He needed to go faster, needed to be stronger, he was so scared, scared and _angry_. He want to feel whatever was chasing him thrash in his jaws, wanted to smell its overwhelming fear, and then he want to bite down and snuff it out in one brutal snap. He heaved at his weak frame, pushing outward with his dizzying new senses, arranged his muscles and _seethed._

 

He opened his eyes. A human boy was staring at him, fascinated. The boy put out a hand and Scott snapped at him. Not aggressively, just reminding this wolf-smelling boy that he was the alpha here. The boy drew his hand back. Then he hunched his shoulders, and the scent of wolf overwhelmed that of boy as he surged.

 

Scott took the opportunity to drop off the bed and pad around the room, exploring the familiar but newly overpowering scents, snuffling here and there. He heard nails clicking behind him and turned to see another wolf, taller at the shoulder than he was, but skinnier, less powerful.

 

It had its tail tucked between its legs and tentatively crept toward Scott with due reverence, keeping low. When it reached him, it stretched up, licking his muzzle respectfully. Scott’s tail swished and he growled his approval before dipping his head and fastening his teeth in the fold of skin beneath the other wolf’s throat. Not hard, but with just enough pressure to let the other know who was alpha around here. The other wolf gave a short whine of deference.

 

Scott released him, and the other wolf surged again. Scott pawed at his nose as the scent of human appeared, mostly overwhelming that of wolf. The human boy made a noise. Scott narrowed his eyes, listening hard. That noise sounded familiar. Like… words. If only he could remember what the sounds meant.

 

Impatiently, he heaved himself upward, reaching for the set of senses that would allow him to interpret the noises. Abruptly, he was human again, shivering a little from where he sat on the floor and mourning the loss of a whole vista of sounds and smells.

 

Isaac threw a sweater over to Scott, grinning. “See, you got back all right.”

 

“Yeah.” Scott flexed his fingers. Isaac hadn’t been kidding; having them _was_ weird.

 

“Well?” Isaac asked, “What did you think?”

 

“It was interesting.”

 

“It’s better if you’re outside,” Isaac said, casting a longing look over at the window.

 

Scott rubbed his eyes, suddenly tired. Pulling on boxers as he went, no longer caring if Isaac was watching, Scott flopped into bed. Isaac joined him, wearing one of Scott’s shirts, as usual. They were going have to get Isaac his own clothes. When Stiles had noticed at school that the jeans Isaac was wearing were too short for him, he had given Scott a pointed looked.

 

Scott lay there in silence for a while. He was bone-tired. Who knew that turning would take so much out of him? He suspected that he would build up stamina with time.

 

“Hey,” he ventured after ten minutes of sleepy silence. “How come you can understand me so clearly as a wolf?”

 

“Practice,” Isaac muttered, face-down and on the verge of falling asleep. “Also sometimes I just make my best guess or pretend to be asleep if I don’t want to make the effort.”

 

Scott shoved at him good-naturedly as Isaac smiled into the pillow.

 

A further few minutes later, Scott voiced the other thing that had been nagging at him. “Hey, Isaac?”

 

“Shh, I’m asleep.”

 

“Isaac.”

 

“What?” He rolled over, looking resigned.

 

Scott chewed his lip, wondering if he really wanted to know the answer to this. “The way you got me to change, imagining I was being overwhelmed and that I was being chased and stuff?”

 

“Yeah?” Isaac sounded wary.

 

“Was that how you felt the first time you changed?”

 

“…Yes,” he admitted softly.

 

“Was it because of your dad?”

 

Isaac sat up abruptly, not looking at Scott, and began casting around for a pair of pants.

 

“Wait,” Scott grabbed Isaac’s wrist. “What are you doing?”

 

Isaac nodded at the window. “Gonna go for a run.”

 

“At night?”

 

“There are joggers in the woods during the day who would object to seeing a wolf where there shouldn’t be one.”

 

Scott tightened his grip slightly. “There are dangerous killers out there,” he said, voice low and worried.

 

“All the better,” Isaac said. “After all, I’m one of them.”

 

Scott shivered and withdrew his hand. “You don’t even have a phone. How would I know if something happened to you?”

 

“Don’t worry,” Isaac gave Scott a not-altogether comforting smile. “If I need you, I’ll howl.”

 

“Listen, I’m sorry for asking-”

 

“This isn’t about that,” Isaac said softly. “Honest. I just need to be out there for a while. It’s a good night for it. Nearly full moon. Not raining. You won’t even hear me come in.”

 

Scott bit his nails. “If I don’t, wake me up, okay? I want to know if you got home safe.” At the sound of those last words, Isaac’s face relaxed a little. He nodded. The last thing Scott saw before falling asleep was Isaac pushing up the window sash and slipping out over the sill and onto the roof.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To those of you who requested that this story continue: I love you. Stay golden. (There's more on the way.)


	3. Chapter 3

Stiles slid into his seat next to Isaac. He had taken to sitting with Isaac during History class, whispering under his breath and twirling a pencil between his fingers. Isaac had already been hit with that launched pencil more times than could possibly be strictly accidental.

 

Not that he didn’t get along with Stiles. Isaac just got the impression that Stiles felt more comfortable around him as a wolf, no matter how valiantly he tried to hide it.

 

For the most part, Isaac had been keeping to himself during class, head down, taking only occasional notes. He often didn’t engage in Stiles’ whispered, one-sided debates, preferring to close his eyes and picture the forest sunlight filtering down through the leaves, the smell of decaying foliage, and cool earth under his paws.

 

His fingers twitched in his lap and the hair stood up on the back of his neck. _Tonight,_ he promised himself. _Tonight I’ll go for a run._

Just then, a note landed in front of him. Automatically, he slipped it under the desk to read it.

 

It was Stiles’ bold, scribbly handwriting. It asked Isaac to meet him by the bleachers after school. Isaac shot Stiles a curious look, but for once, Stiles was uncharacteristically silent, scribbling intently in his notebook, one leg bouncing in rapid tempo.

 

Isaac slid a little lower in his seat. For some reason, he felt like he was in trouble.

 

Not good.

 

\---

 

Stiles was waiting for him out there by the time Isaac dragged his feet to the athletics field, past Jackson, who was standing in the parking lot swearing because he had locked his keys in his fancy car.

 

Stiles waved Isaac over. “Hey! I have a favor to ask.”

 

Isaac hunched his shoulders distrustfully. “Why me?”

 

Stiles fumbled with his backpack. “I’ve already picked Scott’s brain. I want the perspective of another wolf.” He drew out a notebook, a thick, expensive one, already half-full of clippings and Internet printouts. As Stiles turned to a clean page, Isaac caught sight of sketches and careful diagrams, accompanied by pages of notes copiously interspersed with question marks, maps, and neatly copied selections of verse.

 

“What’s that?” He asked, curious despite himself.

 

“A Grimoire,” Stiles said proudly. “I’m trying to record all the weird shit that’s been happening around here, all the stuff you guys can do.”

 

Isaac reached out, and, after a moment, Stiles handed over the volume. It was small but appropriately heavy. Isaac leafed through slowly, taking in drawings and photos of claw positioning, notes on wolf pack dynamics, and articles on wild animal sightings in the area.

 

“I really wanted to get photos of Scott and Derek all wolfed out,” Stiles said, real regret in his voice, “But Derek said that would make it worse if anyone ever found this book.” He took the volume back from Isaac.

 

“So what do you want from me?” Isaac asked.

 

“Your story,” Stiles said eagerly. “What it feels like to be bitten, to change-” Stiles broke off. He looked longingly down at the Grimoire.

 

Isaac put his head on one side.

 

 

“Why don’t you ask Derek for the bite? Or Scott?”

 

Stiles slowly shook his head. “The things you guys can do- I’m not gonna lie, they’re awesome. Sometimes I get so jealous of Scott. But I’m human. All of my quirks and personality traits are rooted in that human-ness.”

 

“Humanity,” Isaac corrected automatically.

 

“Yeah. So if I could try it for a day, I would. But it’s permanent, and I’m seventeen. I’m not gonna make a choice like that and turn myself into a target just for the sake of high school sports.”

 

“Suit yourself.” Isaac made to leave, but Stiles unexpectedly caught his wrist as he turned. Isaac hoped that Stiles hadn’t noticed him flinch.

 

“Will you help me?” Stiles looked pleading.

 

“With your project?” Isaac considered. “Alright. But don’t use my name. And I’m telling Scott.”

 

“Alight. Alright, great!” Stiles beamed at him. Isaac just tugged his wrist away. He felt tired, drained. When he got home, he’d take a nap so he could run that night.

 

_Home? Where’s home?_

_Where Scott is._

 

\---

 

“Come with me tonight.” Scott lifted his head from where he had been resting it on Isaac’s midsection.

 

In Isaac’s opinion, Scott need for tactile comfort was nothing short of excessive. So he couldn’t explain to himself why he allowed the casual touches to persist. Maybe it was a wolf thing.

 

A pack thing.

 

“Come with you where?”

 

“Running. In the woods.”

 

Scott instantly looked troubled. “I don’t know-”

 

“If we’re together, it’ll be safer than either of us going alone,” Isaac wheedled. He scritched his nails lightly across Scott’s scalp. That was playing dirty and he knew it, but Scott had turned true wolf three times now and it was driving Isaac crazy that Scott was content to explore indoors. The forest had so much more to offer.

 

“It’s amazing,” Isaac breathed quietly, and Scott shivered. “The light is different out there. And you’d think it’d be quiet but it’s so loud, so full of life. And the sound of blood pounding in your ears, of the wind in your coat, it’s incredible. You have to come.”

 

Scott didn’t say anything, but Isaac could almost feel his resolve wavering.

 

“You don’t have to hide,” Isaac said quietly.

 

“You do.” The words were out before Scott thought to stop them. Isaac withdrew his hands from Scott’s hair, shoving his head off of him and onto the bed.

 

“Fine,” Isaac said tightly. “Don’t come. But you’re stronger than I am. You could be out there if you wanted. You’re an alpha.” And before Scott do more than open his mouth- to do what? Apologize? Explain that he hadn’t meant to say it? Say that he would go with Isaac, of course he would- Isaac was gone, out the window, over the roof, dropped down into the garden, and away.

 

Scott cursed, headed downstairs and grabbed a flashlight and his bike helmet before slamming the door behind him.

 

\---

 

Stiles opened the door, surprised to see a breathless Scott at his stoop. His weak, “What’s wrong?” was met with Scott’s rushed, “I need your help.”

 

Stiles leaned back through the doorway, yelled to his dad that he was going out with Scott tonight, and grabbed the keys to his Jeep. They were on the road in less than ninety seconds.

 

After a brief, tense silence, Stiles ventured to ask where they were going.

 

Scott scrubbed at his hair with both hands. “The forest.”

 

“Okay,” Stiles said carefully, “But, y’know, it’s a big forest…”

 

“It’s okay,” Scott snapped tensely, “I can track him once we’re under the trees.”

 

“Track? Track who?”

 

“Isaac.”

 

Stiles slammed on the break, cursing as the light turned red. “Scott, what happened with Isaac?”

 

Scott ripped at his thumbnail with his teeth. “We had a fight.”

 

“Oh.” Stiles looked like he wanted to say something else. “You do know that he-”

 

Stiles stopped, shook his head. “He what, Stiles?”

 

“Nothing, never mind.”

 

“He _what_?” Scott said insistently.

 

“Nope, forget I said anything. None of my business.”

 

“You can’t just _say_ things like that!”

 

“Oops, totally right. Pretend I didn’t. Anyway, how do you know that Isaac even wants you to follow-” Stiles broke off as Scott stiffened visibly. “What is it?”

 

“He’s howling,” Scott said. He was bone-white. Stiles took one look at his best friend and sped up.

 

\---

 

It all passed in a blur for Scott. Unbuckling his seat belt and leaping from the Jeep, stripping faster than he ever had in the locker room at school, dropping to his knees in the cool leaf-litter and narrowing his eyes, ears back, heart slamming in his chest.

 

He didn’t even hear Stiles’ quiet expletive as he shifted, the change coming faster than it ever had before, spreading his muscles in strange configurations. He opened his mouth, pink tongue, white teeth, threw back his head and howled. He listened.

 

His pack member was out there, was in trouble. He heard no reply.

 

He lowered his nose to the forest floor. A scent. He needed a scent.

 

He moved off. Hearing the crunching of leaves behind him, he turned and growled at the pale human boy. He fell back, muttering, “I’ll just wait in the car.”

 

Scott lowered his head, his tread light and quiet. He moved this way and that, his path seemingly random to the casual observer, but in reality winding his way around the car in widening rings, his path allowing for the trees in his way. Back and forth, searching for a scent.

 

It felt like hours before he picked it up. He set off, nose down, ears forward, straining, moving as fast as he dared.

 

His ears twitched and swiveled with every scurry or clatter of insect wings. His heart beat fast and the sweat under his coat cooled against his skin. His breath rolled out in barely-there clouds.

 

The scent was getting stronger. He was almost there. Almost. Almost.

 

And there he was.

 

Curled on his side at the top of an outcropping of flat rock, not moving. Scott shifted back before he had realized it, a hand stretched out to touch Isaac’s shoulder. He barely noticed that his hand was shaking.

 

Isaac spoke before Scott could touch him. “He didn’t just lock me up, you know.”

 

Scott drew back, silent.

 

Isaac went on. “He threw a glass at me once. It shattered and cut my face. He could have blinded me, but then, according to him, that was my fault.”

 

“You’re not to blame.”

 

Isaac snorted, but there was a sob in his voice when he spoke. “You’d think I would realize that, huh?”

 

“Isaac-”

 

“I hide because I’m a coward, Scott. I killed him, but I’m still scared of him.” Isaac’s breath was coming faster.

 

Scott’s voice was fierce. “You’re _not_ a coward, Isaac. You’re _not_.”

 

“ _I run away from things I don’t want to deal with_.” Isaac choked on the last word and he curled tighter in on himself.

 

“But you always come back.”

 

Isaac laughed hollowly. “Yeah, I’m a sucker for punishment like that.”

 

“Punishment? What do you m-”

 

“Drop it, Scott.”

 

“No! If I’m upsetting you I want to kn-”

 

“I said drop it!” Isaac sprang up, facing Scott for the first time. His eyes were red-rimmed, but his face was dry. “I don’t deserve how nice you’ve been to me. I don’t- deserve- you…” Isaac gulped. Then he turned, dwindling as he did so into the leggy, narrow-faced wolf Scott knew so well. He leapt of the outcropping, bounding down the loose face of rubble and scree.

 

Scott tensed, moved to the edge to follow him once more, but stopped as he saw, as if in slow motion, the wolf leaping, a stone slithering out from under his paw as he did so. Isaac gave a frightened yip. He landed badly, leg caught, and the loose stones rolled over him.

 

Scott was down there in an instant, talking urgently, begging Isaac to answer. The wolf thrashed weakly, whimpering. One of his hind legs caught, half-buried under rubble that Scott couldn’t shift.

 

“It’s okay, Isaac. It’s okay. Stiles is with the car. I’ll go get him. Calm down, Isaac. It’s okay. I’ll be right back. _I’ll be right back_.”

 

Scott left, shifting back to true wolf for speed, and arrived back at the car in minutes, although the journey had felt like an eternity.

 

He banged on the driver’s-side door, eyes wild, and Stiles was out there with him in an instant.

 

“Scott, what’s wrong? Where’s Isaac?”

 

“Trapped. He’s trapped. I need your help.”

 

Scott turned and started to run, back through the forest, back between the dark trees and shifting shadows. Stiles, human Stiles, struggled to keep up.

 

“You left him there alone?” He panted.

 

Guilt stabbed at Scott. He pressed on even faster.

 

Finally, _finally,_ they found their way back, Stiles out of breath, Scott frantic.

 

“Isaac?” he hissed.

 

He heard a whimper. He found Isaac quickly, stretched out a hand to reassure him. The wolf snarled and snapped at him, eyes rolling in blind panic.

 

“Can’t you calm him down?” Stiles asked, worried.

 

Scott looked wildly at his friend. “Right. Yeah. Yes. That.” He slowly put his hand forward again, managing to catch the wolf by the back of the neck as Isaac tossed his head sharply, trapped and snarling. Scott focused and Isaac’s pain flooded him, a white-hot burst of agony. Scott hoped nothing was broken. Shuddering, he pressed on as he felt Isaac relaxing, going limp. Under the physical agony, there was another pain, a sadder, more acute sense of anguish that Scott would have normally left alone. Now, as he silently offered his apologies, he pulled it out of his friend in tangled, heavy ropes. There were tears on his face by the end of the procedure, and his heart felt dense and slow in his cavernous chest. “Fuck,” he gasped.

 

“You okay?” Stiles asked, and Scott hadn’t even felt him put a hand on his elbow.

 

“Yeah,” Scott said, scrubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. “Just help me get him out.”

 

They labored grimly for what felt like hours, but must not have been more than thirty minutes of shadowy quiet. Each rustle in the undergrowth, each chirp made them whip around, ears and eyes straining. Stiles was swearing under his breath by the end.

 

Finally, Isaac was free. He had lain there, lackluster, trembling a little whenever pressure was put on his trapped leg, otherwise unresponsive.

 

When he was free, he didn’t so much as try to stand. Scott and Stiles exchanged a look before Scott carefully scooped up the wolf, mindful of his injuries. They walked back to the car in silence.

 

Scott put his clothes back on before getting into the backseat with Isaac. Stiles had covered the wolf with a blanket. By the time Stiles dropped them off at Scott’s house, Isaac had fallen asleep.

 

\---

 

Scott slept badly that night. Isaac’s breathing was shallow and regular and he didn’t so much as stir once.

 

Scott kept one arm thrown anxiously across Isaac’s chest, chest pressed to Isaac’s back and nose buried against his shoulder. Scott’s heart thudded uncomfortably, irregularly, and he ached in his arms and back and legs and in his heart.

 

He just kept remembering Isaac’s pain, that reservoir of hurt that he had skimmed across before when he had taken away Isaac’s nightmares and fear, but which he had never really stooped to examine.

 

It had filled every part of him and its ghost haunted him. The fact that it would probably grow back, seep in through the cracks without Isaac so much as letting him know made him unaccountably upset.

 

He curled his arm tighter around his friend, thinking, _Please be okay, please be okay, please let everything work out_.

 

As if Isaac had heard him, the taller let out a sigh in his sleep. His breathing slowed at last. Scott dropped off not long after.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey!! So I have the next chapter pretty much already planned. I'm thinking this will end up being four or five chapters in total. Maybe an afterward-type-thing if y'all want that. Thank you to everyone who's commented so far!!


	4. Chapter 4

Scott woke up the morning after the incident to find Isaac curled in his dog bed on the floor.

 

When Scott tried to rouse him and convince him to get ready for school, Isaac stirred an ear in irritation, but otherwise gave no indication that he was awake. Scott left him alone, feeling strange to be sitting in Stiles’ Jeep where he had sat the night before.

 

Stiles let him brood undisturbed until they pulled into the school parking lot. He turned the car off before venturing to speak. “So, did the two of you make up?”

 

Scott shrugged. “I don’t think he wants to talk to me.”

 

\---

 

Derek raised his head in confusion. Who the hell what visiting him this early? Hell, who even visited him at all? How did they find him here?

 

He made his way to the door of the burned-out shell of his childhood home. Even if he was technically living in the loft these days, he still went back and visited the old place when he could. He preferred it for the solitude it offered. Call him a recluse. You wouldn’t be wrong.

 

Standing on the porch was that new pup, Isaac. He looked like he wasn’t sure what he was doing there. That made two of them.

 

Derek folded his arms, waiting for the explanation to follow.

 

Isaac nervously cleared his throat. “Can I come in?”

 

Derek’s first instinct would have been _No_ , backed up with a growl. But his conscience, which spoke in Scott’s voice these days, insisted that he do otherwise. _You owe him_ , it reminded him unkindly.

 

He jerked his head, turning to tramp back inside. Isaac followed, hands in pockets, shoulders up, chin tucked nearly to his chest. Defensive.

 

“What?” Derek asked.

 

Isaac shrugged to disguise how he had winced at the sharpness in the other’s voice. “I just wanted to talk to you.”

 

“You’d be the first,” Derek said wryly. “What about?”

 

Isaac appeared to struggle with something. “Stiles.”

 

Mm. Probably _not_ the reason Isaac had tramped through the woods to find Derek on a Tuesday morning, but he’d play along for now.

 

“What about him?”

 

“He said some weird stuff. About the bite.”

 

“Oh.” Derek ran a hand through his hair. “Well, Stiles is the most thoroughly human person I’ve ever met. My uncle offered him the bite and he turned him down cold.”

 

“I think he regrets it sometimes,” Isaac said softly.

 

Derek shrugged. “You make your choices and live with them. That’s how life works. Maybe he’ll get another offer. Maybe he’ll take it. Maybe he won’t. That’s his business.”

 

Isaac was considering Derek. “What about you? Were you offered the bite?”

 

“Nope. Hereditary wolf.” This was edging into personal territory. Derek had gone to great lengths to keep that kind of thing from the public sphere.

 

Isaac was nodding to himself. Before he could ask something a little more invasive, Derek cut him off with a question of his own.

 

“Want to go for a run?”

 

Isaac looked up, surprised. “In the daytime?”

 

“Well, yeah.”

 

“Uh, sure. I’ll just go and change.” Before Derek could explain that he had meant that the offer came with a human-form-only implied clause, Isaac had left the room, padding back a minute later as a light-haired, long-legged wolf.

 

Derek raised his eyebrows. “Huh. I thought only hereditary wolves could turn true wolf.” Isaac sat down patiently, tail sweeping back and forth. “I’m not turning in the daytime,” Derek said curtly. “If you don’t want to turn back now, I guess I could take you for a walk.” Isaac gave him a sarcastic look. “Don’t take that tone with me, I’m still your alpha,” Derek growled. Isaac put his ears back and his tail stilled, but he gave no other indication that Derek’s tone had any effect on him.

 

 _I_ am _still his alpha, right?_ Derek thought. He shook himself. “Fine,” he said aloud. “Have it your way.”

 

He stalked into the next room to change. When he returned, Isaac was standing, but ducked his head at the sight of Derek’s massive, jetty form. Derek sniffed him thoughtfully. Another alpha. So the pup really _wasn’t_ his anymore.

 

The other wolf followed him out the door. He led them on a route he knew well. It took them away from town, away from the tame, humans-only footpaths into denser forest, where sunlight had difficultly reaching the sparse weeds below. Isaac was favoring his hind paw, although Derek could see nothing wrong with it. An old injury, perhaps.

 

Derek waited for Isaac in a small clearing, pouncing on him as he came through the gap in the trees. He rolled him over and Isaac gave a frightened yip as he went down thrashing. It took a minute for Isaac to realize that Derek was playing with him, at which point he relaxed somewhat, squirming out of the teeth Derek had fixed into the skin at the nape of his neck.

 

They wrestled together for a while before taking off into the trees, racing, wind in their ears and simple pleasure in their veins. They bounded between the trees, surefooted and recklessly, excitingly fast. Eventually they returned to that clearing, panting, tongues hanging pinkly from dripping jaws.

 

When they made it back to Derek’s old place and turned back, the kid looked much more at ease than he had when he had arrived.

 

Derek, for one, felt good. He hadn’t known that any of the pups around here could go true wolf. In his heart of hearts, he had missed that. Had missed racing through the forest with his sisters and cousins, giddy with adrenaline, glancing repeatedly over his shoulder to see them straining to catch him.

 

Maybe the new kid wasn’t so bad, after all.

 

“What did you really come here about?” Derek asked, open and relaxed.

 

Isaac shrugged, splayed out on the dusty, grimy couch. “To get away from my feelings.”

 

“Can’t fault you there,” Derek said. He hesitated. Emotional counseling was not exactly in his repertoire of services offered, but he felt obligated to do his best under the circumstances. “You know,” he said tentatively, “You could just tell Scott how you feel.”

 

Isaac’s expression turned tired, forlorn. “If you say so.”

 

“I mean it,” Derek persisted, wondering as he did so what exactly he thought he was doing. “Scott’s a little airheaded at times, but he’d at least hear you out. You already reek of each other and spend every waking moment together. What’s the worst that could happen?”

 

Isaac’s voice was soft, nearly inaudible. “He could like me back.”

 

\---

 

Isaac huddled in the corner with Stiles. They were in the Library after school and Stiles was asking him every question he could think of about being a wolf and furiously scribbling down Isaac’s answers.

 

“Have you ever met a real wolf? Did it know you were different?”

 

“No, I’ve never met a real wolf.”

 

“Uh-huh,” Stile made a note. “Okay, next question. Why are you avoiding Scott?”

 

Isaac was caught off-guard. “I’m not-”

 

“Yes you are, and I want to know _why_.”

 

Isaac hesitated, eyeing the pen in Stiles’ hand, still poised over the pages. Stiles saw the look and rolled his eyes, closing the Grimoire. “I’m not avoiding Scott,” Isaac said in a low voice.

 

“He says you’ve been spending a lot of time with Derek. And you’ve been spending a lot more time than usual as a wolf.”

 

Isaac hesitated. “Okay,” he admitted, “So I’ve been avoiding him.”

 

“Knew it,” Stiles said with a wholly self-satisfied nod. “You really need to cut it out.”

 

“Why should I?” Isaac asked mutinously, perfectly aware of how childish he sounded.

 

“Because you’re making Scott miserable and he is, in turn, making _me_ miserable,” Stiles said severely. “He’s my best friend, but he can be dumber than dirt when it comes to feelings. I’d like to tell you that you need to ‘fess up to him before he figures it out on his own, but realistically that’s probably never gonna happen. So your secret is pretty much safe from Scott, but keeping it bottled up might cost you your friendship. Are you willing to do that to him?”

 

Isaac pulled at his hair. “You and Derek are conspiring matchmakers,” he accused.

 

Stiles, for his part, seemed surprised and amused. “Derek’s playing matchmaker?”

 

“Yes, he is,” Isaac hissed.

 

“Good for him.” Isaac glared. “Don’t look at me like that. This mess isn’t _my_ fault.”

 

Isaac slumped against the bookcases. “I know,” he said miserably. “But what do I do? I can’t just tell him. I’ve been sleeping in his bed for god’s sake.”

 

“You _have_?” Stiles raised his eyebrows. “Scott didn’t tell me _that_. This might be easier than you think.”

 

\---

 

Isaac was waiting for Scott when he got home from the Veterinary Clinic. He was sitting cross-legged on the couch, nervous and jittery, palms sweating, heart squeezing erratically. Hopefully Scott wouldn’t pick up on that.

 

When Scott entered the living room and saw Isaac, he stopped, staring.

 

Isaac stared right back.

 

For the last week or so, he had been avoiding that gaze, warm brown and full of concern and naked emotion and- oh god, Isaac could not do this.

 

He stood up and walked over to Scott, who looked like he might cry. Isaac silently held out his arms and Scott gratefully folded him in a hug. They stood like that for a while, sharing warmth. It was really nice, and Isaac wished they could just say like that, maybe forever. Just stand in this exact spot together for the rest of time.

 

But he had to say it. Stiles and Derek would know if he hadn’t. Worst of all, _he_ would know he hadn’t. So he gently pried Scott off of him, and no, that felt wrong, now he was too cold and too awkward and too self-conscious.

 

But Scott was looking at him enquiringly and he had to say something. So he cleared his throat and he said what he had been nerving himself up to say as he had sat on the couch, staring, unseeing, at the bookshelves along the walls.

 

“Can I ask you a favor?”

 

Scott looked surprised, as well he should. Isaac had barely talked to him in days. And now all of a sudden he was being all touchy-feely and making amends and asking for favors.

 

“Yeah? Yes. What do you need?” Isaac’s heart swelled uncomfortably and momentarily obstructed his throat. _This_ was why he loved Scott. And then, _Whoa. Love. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves here. Not like I’ve already decided that we’re gonna live in a nice house with a big yard that borders the woods and is nice and private and has a sunroom and a cool attic. Not like I’m planning our whole lives together. Not like he’s looking at me like I’ve been staring at him for full minute- oh god._

 

In answer, Isaac took ahold of Scott’s hand and pulled him to the door. “I need you to go somewhere with me,” he said.

 

“Why?” Bless Scott.

 

“I don’t want to go there alone.” Isaac led him outside. They began to walk, Isaac navigating through the daytime streets of Beacon Hills half from memory, half from instinct. He had dropped Scott’s hand as soon as they had left the house, but at some point Scott linked little fingers with him. It was nice.

 

They walked for what seemed like a long time in silence, turning this way and that, until finally Isaac pulled Scott through a couple of back yards and into the small, weed-choked back garden that still haunted Isaac’s nightmares. It looked slightly less sinister now, with it’s dead grass and the golden sunlight splashing color against the sooty bricks around the back step.

 

Isaac stretched up, feeling across the top of the doorframe for the spare key he knew would still be there. He grasped it, unlocked the door, and led Scott inside.

 

He stepped into his old house.

 

He inhaled and was instantly assaulted by smells. Familiar, so familiar, but there was so much more depth here than what he could have ever smelled before the bite. He felt his heart rate pick up as he stood there, rigid. It smelled like fear, like the last meal they had eaten together, like cruelty and the kind of sweat that gets into your sheets after nightmares. It smelled dreary and horrible and close and dark and he didn’t even realize that he was whimpering until he felt Scott’s hand in his, gripping tightly, driving back the pain.

 

He ventured further in, not daring to turn on any lights. There was the bowl on the table in the front hall where his father always put his keys. There was the mat that Isaac had once gotten a thrashing for tracking mud onto. There was the chair where his mother and he had used to sit and read together while she was still alive.

 

He made his way through the house blindly, seeing too much, seeing everything, with Scott trailing behind him, hand still clasped tightly in his.

 

There was the dining room table where he had sat with his father. Where he had always sat on the edge of his seat in case he needed to move quickly.

 

He led Scott upstairs. There was his old room, no posters on the bare walls, only school books in the empty shelves. He used to spend hours at the library because it was quiet there, because no one would talk to him there, because he could read in there even if he couldn’t bring the books home. And he always had to be home by seven or his father would lay into him when he did make it back, no matter what his excuse.

 

There was no lock on his bedroom door. His father had made him keep it open at all times. Sometimes his father would get drunk and wander into Isaac’s room in the night and wake him up by screaming at him or dragging him out of bed.

 

Now the bed was neatly made, still the same as how Isaac had left it.

 

He left the room quickly, his free hand pressed tightly against his own mouth to stop him making any sound or gagging. He felt that to break the dim, dusty silence would be to punch through the crust of preserved Past Events and let those traumas leak into the Right Now Currently Happening moments.

 

He led Scott back into the hallway, finding the right door with ease, prying his hand away from his own face to grasp convulsively at the knob. It was cold iron, and the heavy, gritty feel of it made his flesh creep. He turned it with a stiff scrape and pushed it inward.

 

It opened onto near-total darkness. Of course, since the bite that kind of thing hadn’t been a problem for him, but he still held out a hand and Scott, understanding, handed over his phone. Isaac switched on the flashlight and peered down into the murk.

 

They descended cautiously, Isaac’s head spinning with sensory input. God, the _smell_ down here. It wasn’t powerful, but it was horribly, horribly familiar. It reeked of fear and pain. Scott gripped his hand a little tighter.

 

Isaac cast his light around slowly. He knew where it was, but was in no hurry to see it again. Finally the beam fell on it.

 

A cement freezer.

 

It was smaller than Isaac remembered, and the lid was open, rusted chains pooled around it on the floor. He edged closer, heart pounding, breath coming in panicky little gasps that he couldn’t seem to control. He slipped his hand out of Scott’s to press it hard across his mouth. Scott transferred his grip to Isaac’s arm instead.

 

Isaac half-expected something to leap out at them from that crate, some nightmare horror or other. But it was empty.

 

He examined it, the scratches in the underside of the lid, the streaks of flaky brown substance that could have been rust but weren’t.

 

After an eternity, he turned and left, trying not to sprint out of there, away from that nesting place of bad memories.

 

He hustled them back outside, locking the back door and automatically hiding the key above the doorframe again.

 

He handed Scott back his phone, taking a huge, shuddery breath.

 

“Where do you want to go?” Scott asked softly. His hand was in Isaac’s again.

 

Isaac shrugged. They went back to Scott’s place. Back _home_.

 

\---

 

Scott sat on the couch and Isaac lay with his head in Scott’s lap. He was half-curled on his side, back against the back of the seat.

 

Defensive. Always on the defensive.

 

He forced himself to relax, to stretch out his legs and concentrate on the feeling of Scott’s finger’s combing through his hair. Secretly, he was glad Scott hadn’t cut it shorter. It felt nice.

 

He closed his eyes.

 

After a while, Scott’s fingers stilled in Isaac’s hair. Isaac sensed a moment of hesitation, indecision. It felt important. He opened his eyes. And felt soft lips on his, gentle, fleeting.

 

Isaac raised his head, “What?”

 

“Sorry,” Scott whispered, mortified.

 

Isaac shifted fully onto his back, staring up at Scott, mind reeling. He put out a hand and grasped the front of Scott’s shirt, pulling him insistently down again. He was confused, so confused, but the feeling of Scott’s lips on his had been too quick, too easy. He needed more, just to test it out, to be sure it had really happened and that he hadn’t just fallen asleep with Scott’s fingers in his hair and dreamt of Scott kissing him.

 

They kissed once more, and this time Isaac opened his mouth a little, tentatively dragging his tongue across Scott’s lips until he parted them. From then on it was clear that between the two of them, Scott definitely had more experience. So Isaac let him lead and when they finally parted Isaac felt pleasantly dizzy.

 

He sat up. “Do you like me?” he asked. Once spoken aloud, the question sounded absurd, needy. No sooner had the words left his mouth than he was on his feet, ready to bolt. “Never mind, you don’t have to answer that.”

 

But Scott was nodding, hiding his face with his hands. “I really do,” he said wretchedly. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to kiss you-”

 

But Isaac cut him off and drew him to his feet. “If you really meant it,” Isaac said daringly, heart in his throat, “Do it again.”

 

Scott leaned forward, kissing Isaac gently before pulling back, looking worried.

 

“You don’t have to-” Scott started to say, but Isaac interrupted him again.

 

“Shut up. Shut up a minute Scott.” Isaac felt like galaxies were expanding inside of his chest. He was reeling, lightheaded. “I like you too. God, do I ever,” he laughed. “But I thought I couldn’t tell you. Because. Because.” He swallowed and the smile slid from his face. “Because I’m not good enough for you.” He said softly.

 

Scott’s eyes widened. “Isaac, _no_.”

 

Isaac shook his head hard. “I know it’s dumb. It’s just how I felt. You were so nice to me. I could never be that nice. I didn’t want to seem like I was just latching onto you because you were the first person to be nice to me. I just,” his breath hitched, “I just really like you, okay? I feel safe with you.”

 

“Good,” Scott said softly. “Because I want you to stay here. You know, for as long as you want. But I never want you to go back there, okay? At least not without me.” Scott wrapped his arms around Isaac and hugged him tightly. “Stop running away,” he said, voice muffled.

 

Isaac found himself smiling again, against his will. He rested a hand on top of Scott’s head and his chin on his hand. “I don’t need to run away anymore,” he said. “I have you.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AND HERE WE COME TO THE END!! For something that was supposed to be a oneshot, this sure turned out to have more than one chapter.... 
> 
> THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE PEOPLE WHO ASKED ME TO MAKE THIS INTO A WHOLE STORY. I DID IT FOR YOU GUYS. I HOPE YOU LIKE IT!!
> 
> Also a super special thanks to my friend Lucia (punkghoul.tumblr.com) for the amazing PLAYLIST she made FOR THIS STORY. (SCREAMS)
> 
> Stay golden, folks!!

**Author's Note:**

> Say hi to me on tumblr!! (quasi-birdpeople.tumblr.com)
> 
> Works inspired by this one:
> 
> THIS LOVELY PLAYLIST: http://8tracks.com/destroywhatislucia/wolf-isaac


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